A/N: You're going to have to trust me here with this, don't disregard what I had said about everything not being as it seems, okay?

Usual disclaimer applies.

March, 2012

~52~

I wonder what Edward makes of me. It is clear he has no idea that he was drugged, probably because he was also drinking that night which in itself would explain the forgotten memories. I wonder if he thinks that I was the same way, just inebriated from the alcohol, not able to remember because of my drunken stupor. Regardless, I'm glad he finally realizes that I'm not letting him make bullshit excuses; I'm not letting him ignore what happened any longer.

Edward begins to talk, speaking each word with careful deliberation.

"I remember taking you away from those assholes. I remember laying you on that bed, wanting you to get some rest where you would be safe. And then you woke up. I remember stroking your cheek, being amazed at how soft it was, softer than before…

"And you sat up, and said that you missed me. That you loved me. And yes, we made love. Both active participants."

And I can't stop crying.

Edward crosses his arms over his chest and his words are quiet, subdued. "You really don't remember?"

I bite my bottom lip, trying to stop the sob.

But then a thought occurs, sending the sob ripping up my throat.

"Then why did you leave me there?" The volume and pitch of my voice rises with every word. "If it was so tender and loving, why did I wake up by myself, searching for my underwear?" I am practically shouting now.

Edward cuts me off, his words even louder than mine. "I had to get out of there!"

"You had to?"

"Yes. I woke up, I-I saw you there. I realized what I did!"

"What did you realize was so bad?"

"I slept with you!"

"But it was consensual right?" My lungs are working at their maximum capacity, leaving me panting through my mouth.

"Yes!"

"Then what about that is so wrong?"

And Edward's face crumples.

He's crying now too.

His hands move through the air, trying to grasp some sense, an anchor. His chin is quivering, and his eyes have turned red.

Finally, the words pour from his lips, coming faster and faster, louder and louder.

"Because you're my sister! And I knew it! Even after my mother told me, and I tried to just cut you out of my life, I loved you. I tried not to! I tried not to, but It. Won't. Go. Away!"

The pain etched across Edward's face, the agony that permeates every word, cuts me to the core. I gasp repeatedly, not able to get enough oxygen into my burning lungs.

Edward falls into a squat, forearms resting on his legs, head in his hands, which are claws upon his skin.

But it doesn't stop me from hearing his sobs, his cries.

I turn and begin to walk away.

Not good enough.

I begin to run.

I make it to my truck and wrench the door open.

The keys are still in the ignition, letting me escape a split second faster.

Still not good enough.

I don't make it far on the highway before I need to pull over and throw up.

A/N: So just a word about GHB. Wikipedia states, "Its effects have been described anecdotally as comparable with alcohol and ecstasy use, such as euphoria, disinhibition, enhanced sensuality and empathogenesis. At higher doses, GHB may induce nausea, dizziness, drowsiness, agitation, visual disturbances, depressed breathing, amnesia, unconsciousness, and death." So if you are wondering why Edward remembers more than Bella, it's because he undoubtedly had a much smaller dose. However, it still would have affected his inhibitions and decision-making skills, obviously to quite an extreme.